Page 363 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Talk it out.” Hank shrugged. “Process it. The way you’re doing with that album. Remember that what happened is in the past, and it doesn’t hold you now. You never forget, though.”

“You never forget.” Jacob blew out a breath. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat wishing I could. Wanting to be done with it. Forget all of it. Be who I was before he took us. Live that life and see where it might’ve gone.”

He’d dreamed that so many times. What life would’ve been like if they’d graduated, and he and Addie were still together. If they got married. Made a family. What he’d have done for work. If he tried to be who his dad thought he should be—when his parents bothered to remember he was there. Burying the artist he hid inside. Being the football star instead of the kid who was the reason his parents had split.

After what happened he’d given up the pretense of trying to be both things just to keep them happy. He’d managed to persuade his mom that he wanted to be a photographer like her. But only so he could capture what’d happened and deal with it in his own way?

Jacob couldn’t help thinking he was probably as much of a disappointment to everyone now as he’d always been. He’d taken the steps he thought were right. So had Hank.

He didn’t even know anymore.

“What?”

Jacob shrugged. “The two of you became cops.”

“And you think you should’ve as well?”

He hesitated. “What do you think?”

“Would you be happy as a cop?” Hank assessed him like Jacob might’ve asked an insulting question. “Reporting for duty, following instructions. Brushing off the frustrations of the justice system. Seeing innocent people get their lives destroyed.”

“No, I wouldn’t be happy.” Still, hiding hadn’t given him peace either. It was quiet, but that wasn’t the same thing.

The only thing that ever gave him peace was…

He glanced at the blinds. If he opened them now, would he see the dawn the way Grandpa had shown him?

Maybe Hank and Addie were more alike than he wanted to admit. That was the crux of it. They were both the kind of people who worked tirelessly to bring the evil in the world to justice. He’d tried to live his life the way he needed to, just like they had.

What had that gained him?

Hank rounded the counter and got in his face. “Aren’t you exactly where you wanted to be?” He paused half a second. “Penthouse isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?” Hank laughed and slapped him on the back.

Jacob shoved his friend away. “I offered you a place to live.”

“I like my yard.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. The expression on Hank’s face said it might have more to do with this being his building rather than an apartment having no yard. It wasn’t like he rubbed his success in his friend’s face, but who knew what Hank thought about it?

His friend shot him a look. “When the renovations are done on the fourth floor, you should move down there. See how the other half lives for a while. Get some perspective.”

“I can do the same on a cruise.”

Hank laughed and looked at his watch. “I should get going. Wanna go to the Gopher game later?”

Jacob made a face. “The quarterback needs some help.”

“Maybe since you’re the one who set the state record you should show up. Give him some pointers.”

“Yeah, the coach will love us butting in.” The two of them might have been football stars, but after what happened they’d been famous for entirely different reasons.

Maybe one day Jacob would realize it had been weeks and no one mentioned it. Nothing happened to remind him. But he wasn’t holding his breath that would happen anytime soon.

Hank’s phone rang. “Detective Maxwell.” He listened for a second. “Text me the address. I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up.

“What happened?”

Hank hesitated. “Fine. A hiker in Prospero Park found a body. Preliminary ID is Celia Jessop.”

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